traumverloren
by VerrucktTeufel
Summary: First batfic, GO ME! (anyways)Poor young persephone's life is forever changed when she is kidnapped by the Joker during one of his raids. (will be updating depending on r&r's)


: ahem I do not own batman or any of its related characters, they are (c.) to DC COMICS, and blahblahblahblah. (But Persie belongs to meeeeeee)

If I get anything wrong in here, I do apologize and corrections are welcomed, but if you e-mail me complaining that I've corrupted the bat-verse, I shall become annoyed.

HAVE FUN! XD

I had arrived on the 8:45 train into Gotham; the moment I stepped off and onto the hard cement platform, I knew it was the place. Everything felt completely frozen in time, men wearing derbies and black dress suits stood on the platform, waiting for the next train…each one looking serious and stern, but deep inside I could feel the tiny ball of anxiousness and adrenalin tightening within each and every man's chest; an attribute genetically handed down from their fathers who had lived in this place of insanity and chaos. Women, who stood amongst the men in their day-dresses and suits, stood with the same look, expecting some maniac to jump out from behind the ticket booth and shoot them, or for some poisonous gas to snake its way through the ventilation shafts, or to be threatened again, and again, and again.

It's a bloody wonder this place wasn't a ghost town yet…

That was, of course, because of Gothams large trade industry in steel, plastic, fish, and, ironically, ammunition that this city was still a functioning part of the world. But due to its high crime rate, it wasn't really a hot-spot for tourism in the summer, or any time of year in fact.

I walked out of the train station to peer out at the city around me, teaming with life. This was the place where I would find my future, I could feel it…

Now…where was the bank?

Grabbing a cab was like trying to hook a string around a fly's neck; possible, but hard as hell! I could say that my attempt to merely get to the bank in once piece was a pleasant trip, but it was not. Hauling my suitcase into that stinky little cab was about as much fun as it sounded. However, I can say that I made it there, and that is all that matters. It was a simple enough task, walk in through the revolving doors, waiting in the line came next, and all in all, one could hardly even call it a task, you know? It was the second part, the incident, which I didn't expect….though I suppose I should have.

I was closest to the door; how could I avoid the inevitable? And plus, it did happen rather sudden.

About, roughly, 25 minutes after I had gotten to the bank and began waiting in line, the front door violently exploded; of course, I ducked like any other sane person, which im guessing half of these people were not, seeing that they were blown across the floor by the impact. After the debris had settled, I raised my head up ever slightly, to come face to face, or 'cane' rather, with the perpetrator. It was a deep purple (the cane), with sheen so splendid I could see my ivory white face reflecting back at me. Right behind the cane, was a pair of black spats, covered with a loose and baggy purple fabric, that (as I followed up) became a pair of men's pants…connected to the torso of a man with a face (whiter than mine!), with red crimson lips…the color of freshly drawn blood, and emerald green hair.

At first, I thought he was some sort of post-punk alternative kid that decided to come out in the day (for once), but at second glance, I realized this was no kid, but a man, perhaps early or late 30's at most. Surrounding him were large burly men, definitely there to make up for the brawn that the white-faced man lacked. Each carried a large Tommy Gun, except for one character, who was not a man, but clearly a woman clad in a leotard-tight suit, outfitted to make herself look like some kind of French mine…a harlequin most likely.

I laid there along the floor, like every other moron there, hoping to god that nothing horrible would happen. I could hear the white-faced man's cane stomp on the ground in front of my face.

"Boys," I heard him call out, in a voice so deep but full of childish glee that it made a noise in its own category, "it's time to get our allowances! Harls, be a dear and ask the nice lady at the front for some assistance, would ya?" The girl in the leotard leapt up and down in a childish manner before running off to the vaults. I could hear the white-faced man's shoes pace further and further towards my head before I finally felt his spat land straight on my lower back. Man, that guy must've either had poor surrounding comprehension or an incredibly long stride! Anyways…

"Hmm, what's this here?" He cooed while removing his spat from my spine. I could feel long spidery fingers glide up my back to the cuff of my coat, and lifted my tiny 5ft 1 body off the ground. As a child, I was never frightened easily, not by anything…there was no exception here. The man's face was certainly white, grease paint white, whiter than white! (Yes, I've made my point now), and those lips…wow, they were redder than mine (a deep blood red), and those eye's were certainly piercing. But aside from all that, he looked like an ordinary Joe with high cheekbones. I could tell he was looking for some sign of fear in me, some indentation, but…and I regretted this later…all I could do was laugh.

I giggled like a school girl, and then snickered, then all out belt. I couldn't help it! He looked so serious staring at me with that clown-like face! I had to laugh! And through my watery eyes I could tell he didn't get the joke, neither did his hench-men, who were glancing at me on their way to the get-away cars with armfuls of cash. I finally snapped to my senses and realized this guy probably had a gun aimed at my belly. I looked down, and saw none. Instead he took one sharp gaze at me, and smiled. Oh lord, that smile would haunt my dreams till I die.

"Well kiddies, it's been grand! Do hope you come to the show next time!" He said to the panic stricken people lying on the ground. He then tilted his head back to me, "as for you little girl, your coming with me…ol' bats wont wanna risk a life dangling by a fine thread, will he?" And with that he took something from his assistant in the leotard and conked me out…then….darkness…

When I came to, I opened my eyes to a faint flickering of light bulbs and the smell of rubbing alcohol. I tried to get up, but my arms and legs could not, would not budge. The room was a tad dark, but I could make out the color of the walls and rug, which were burgundy. The door was cracked open, only a tiny bit, enough to let brighter lights in. I looked around everywhere…the darkness of the room was immense however.

My head was pounding ferociously, what was that he hit me with again, a rubber chicken? Where in the world was I? And who was that man, a run-away carnie with some seriously demented issues? Most likely I suppose…I was in Gotham city after all. That's when I remembered that I had most likely missed the job interview at Wayne enterprises for that new executive position in the techno/bio units....shit.

Just then, my thoughts of failure were interrupted by the clicking of footsteps outside my door. What if it was the white-faced man, coming to finish me off for laughing at him? Or maybe it was the police coming to my rescue! Or perhaps John cleese in a panda suit! ...wait…where the hell did that come from? As I giggled over the idea, the door flew open, and standing there in the entrance was a very lovely blond haired young woman.

"Hey there toots!" The young woman called as she skipped into the room and flicked on the lights, "Nice tah see yah up and about! Well, maybe not about, but I can fix that!" she then strolled over and cut the ropes that had me bonded. "I gots tah apologize for mistah J, but yah know how it is taking hostages, with the 'help me!' and 'you don't wanna do this!' and the occasional 'AAAIEEEE!'s, it gets on his nerves once in awhile. Hey are you hungry? I brought sandwiches!" With that, she trotted out the door, to return with 2 plastic plates covered in peanut butter and banana sandwiches and gummy bears.

"Wont your boss be angry if he catches you and I eating like this?" The young woman's head tilted to the side, causing her pig-tails to bob.

"Nah, Mistah J's in a real good mood today, the bats hasn't picked up our trail in weeks, so he's kind a laid back right now." As she spoke, she began to play with the gummy bears, making them walk and chatter in little high-pitched voices. After growing bored with their presence, she took the bears and held them over her mouth, making them scream and plead in little voices, before they plummeted into her mouth to their doom. Once again, I found myself giggling at the ironic hilarity of this entire situation.

"Hey, you're alright kid! What's your name?"

"Persephone traumverloren or Persie"

"I'm Harleen Quinnzell, but just call me Harley!"

Should this continue or shall it not? Please review and let me know! Or just review and tell me it sucked…but reviews are nice…..

Im lonely… :(


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